The Graveyard
by 2Old4This2
Summary: The ruins of the annihilated planet of Alderaan have been nicknamed the Graveyard. This tells the story of three of the times Han and Leia visit the Graveyard at different times in their relationship.
1. Chapter 1

_Author's note: For those folks waiting for me to finish _Their Story in Her Eyes _and to write the sequel to _The Longest Night_ I will finish it and/or write it. But this story just asked to be written, and it's done except for the editing. Really. Thanks again to jublke for her keen eye and wonderful suggestions. And no, sadly, I don't own **Star Wars.**_

The** Graveyard**

_A _StarWars_ Fan Fiction_

_Two Years ABY_

"You know, your Worship, this probably isn't one of the smarter trips you've suggested." Han Solo's hands held the steering yoke in a tight grip as he piloted the _Millennium Falcon_ around the first of the asteroids. His eyes darted back and forth, seeming to look in all directions at once.

"Can't you just leave her alone, Han?" Luke asked, genuine irritation in his voice. That was unusual; most of the time Luke was happy to let Han and Leia snipe at one another, but today he seemed to sense how important this trip was to the princess.

"Listen, kid," Han countered, "we're flying into a debris—" Han stopped mid-speech, as the truth of what he was about to say sank in.

"It's okay, Luke," Leia said, her voice tight. "He's probably right."

"He is?"

"I am?"

Han's head swiveled back toward the princess, but Leia missed the quick look of concern. She was staring fixedly through the cockpit canopy. When Leia had first approached him about the trip, Han had been dead set against it. It was a stupid idea; it was a _dangerous _idea, her Highness must be out of her royal mind! There was no way he was going to risk his ship, or his own precious self, on a fool's errand. The Princess countered with the argument that Han obviously cared about nothing but himself; she didn't care what he thought, she was going to go. She just needed to find somebody who wasn't so self-centered—or so cowardly. Neither of them actually spoke the truth. Han was worried that this would be too painful an experience for her; Leia wouldn't admit that she needed Han to be the one to take her.

A quick warning bark from Chewbacca brought Han's face forward again. He flipped the ship hard to port, just in time to avoid hitting a chunk of ionized rock the size of an x-wing—a piece of slag that used to be an integral part of the planet Alderaan.

"Does that mean you changed your mind and want to go back?" Han asked her, his worry for her carefully hidden.

"No."

"Didn't think so," he mumbled.

The next few minutes passed in a silence which was only broken by an occasional ping as a piece of debris hit the ship's armored hull and Leia's increasingly ragged breathing.

"Wouldn't it be safer to fly near the bigger pieces?" Luke asked. "There seems to be a little more open space around them."

"That'd be great, kid, if that wasn't where the Imps are likely to be hiding," was the terse reply.

In the years since Alderaan's destruction, the survivors of the blast—those who'd been off planet at the time—had begun a pilgrimage of sorts, returning to the site of their former homeworld and leaving tokens of remembrance in the still expanding debris field. Unfortunately, the Imperials had taken to visiting the rubble as well, and were known to leave mines in the debris, and even to hide a TIE fighter or two among the largest fragments. The official belief was that any being who visited the so-called Graveyard of Alderaan must be a rebel sympathizer and therefore a legitimate target. Leia had never wanted to make the journey before; not since she'd witnessed the actual event.

"Chewie," Han continued, "are you keeping a lookout for any of our Imp friends?"

The Wookiee growled an irritated affirmative.

"Okay, keep your fur on! I was just asking."

The ship jolted downward, hard, as a large chunk of debris broke through the deflector shields and rammed into the ship's starboard mandible. Sparks flew up from Chewie's side of the control board and Han invoked a particularly pungent Corellian curse.

Chewie moaned in frustration as he summarized the damage.

"Terrific," Han said. "Well, we needed to work on that driver anyway."

"Han?" Leia's voice was small as she watched the two pilots struggle to bypass the damaged system. "I'm sorry. I never should have asked you to do this."

"Well, I wouldn't have trusted anyone else with, uh, I mean," Han stumbled, as he swerved the ship around another piece of slag. "I wasn't going to let anyone else take you, uh,…" He set his face in a self-confident smirk. "Well, of course when you make a dangerous trip, you're gonna want the best pilot around to get you there!" he finished pompously.

Leia smiled at the Corellian's slip—and quick recovery. Every once in a while Han Solo actually showed that he cared about something other than himself.

"How much deeper do you want to go in?" Han asked her.

"Just a little farther," she said.

"What was…?" Han stopped, unsure if he should ask the question.

"There?" Leia finished for him. "It's the official coordinates of the Palace of Alderaan."

Han and Luke remained silent; there didn't seem to be anything they could say. Chewie bleated out a soft whoof and reached around to squeeze Leia's arm.

"Thanks, Chewie," Leia said. She didn't understand the words but she knew what the Wookiee meant, all the same.

After a few more twists and turns, Han slowed the _Falcon_ down to almost a stop. A piece of debris, as large as a transport ship, filled the cockpit viewports. He cut the engines and activated the repulsors. With a master pilot's skill—and an understanding of basic physics—Han was able to hold the ship stationary relative to the asteroid's movement.

"I think this is as close as we're going to get, Princess," he said.

When she didn't answer, Han twisted around in his seat. Leia stood immobile; her eyes were glued to the rocky surface that filled the transparasteel screen, yet they were oddly unfocussed.

"Leia?" he asked carefully, "are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she said. "This will work fine."

Leia was just reaching for a chain around her neck when she was thrown forward by a sudden lurch. She would have banged her head into the hyperdrive levers if Luke hadn't caught her arm and hauled her back upright.

"What the—?" Luke began.

"Light 'em up, Chewie!" Han yelled, yanking the control yoke hard to port and pushing the repulors as hard as he could. "It's a _kriffing _TIE fighter!"

Chewbacca bellowed in dismay as he brought the sublight engines back online. It was just good luck that they hadn't been down for long.

The ship bucked as the sublights took over from the repulsors. Han executed a series of swooping dives and corkscrew turns as green laser shots from the TIE traced by the _Falcon. _Inside the ship, alarms blared and lights flashed as the gravitational compensators struggled for equilibrium.

"Chewie!" Han barked out. "Get in back and find out how bad our shields were hit." He swerved he ship around a piece of debris while simultaneously muttering a suggestion of what had to be a physical impossibility concerning the TIE pilot and his mother.

A Wookiee roar from the engineering pit provided a status report on the shielding.

"Yes!" Han called back, "transfer the power from the hyperdrive to the shields. We'll switch it back when we vape this guy. I hope," he added quietly. "Luke, go back and charge up the quads!"

"On it!" the younger man called as he ran for the back of the ship.

The ship jolted as another laser blast pounded into the shields.

"What do you need me to do?" Leia asked, dropping awkwardly into the co-pilots seat as the _Falcon _lurched downward.

Han tore his eyes away from the viewport long enough to give the princess an appraising look. All traces of her former turmoil were gone; both her hands and eyes were calm and steady. A slow smile of admiration lifted his lips—this woman never ceased to amaze him.

"There." Han pointed to a set of switches far to the starboard side. "See if you can shunt some more power to the rear shields through there."

Leia deftly worked the appropriate switches; lights on the control board switched from amber to green. A few tense minutes later, the front viewscreen turned opaque, protecting their vision as the TIE fighter exploded into an expanding cloud of white sparks. Luke had hit his mark.

Taking a deep breath, Han shut his eyes and leaned his head back against his seat. "That was close," he commented. His grip on the steering yoke loosened to normal.

"Han," Leia began, "I should never have suggested this."

"And you never would have made it if you didn't have the best pilot in the known universe to get you here."

Leia rolled her eyes at his cocky grin, but wasn't ready to let her thanks go unspoken.

"I really appreciate what you've done—"

"So, how far off are we from your coordinates?" he asked her.

"What!?"

"How far do we have to go to get back to your coordinates?" Han repeated.

"You're going to go back there?" Leia couldn't believe what she was hearing. "You didn't want to come in the first place."

"I changed my mind. If you think an Imp fighter is going to keep Han Solo from getting to where he wants to go, you've got another guess coming." Han's grin faded. He reached out his hand and laid it gently on hers. "I know how much this means to you," he said simply.

Leia looked at his hand on top of hers for a long moment; the man never ceased to amaze her. "I'll go figure it out." She slowly pulled her hand away before she stood and went back to the navicomputer.

**Han, Luke, and Chewbacca stood by as Leia pulled the chain from around her neck.** A small, old-fashioned, gold key glinted in the lights of the _Falcon's _aft cargo bay. Once again the ship seemed to be suspended in space, hovering at the coordinates of the former Alderaan Royal Palace. Leia looked at the key, shut her eyes in what might have been a prayer, then placed it inside one half of a small, metal sphere. There was a loud click as Leia snapped the other half of the emergency message capsule in place.

"What is it?" Luke asked.

Leia's eyes dropped, she looked embarrassed. Then she looked her three friends straight in their eyes, as if daring them to laugh. "It's the key to the box where I kept all my journal datachips, and other keepsakes. Just girl things." Her chin lifted. "That girl is gone," she continued, "the same way her girlhood home is gone." Her voice quivered. "So I'm sending the key back to the palace."

"Princess," Han said, his tone oddly formal. "I'm sorry there isn't a better way to launch this." The only safe way to eject the capsule into space from the _Millennium Falcon_ was via the trash ejector. It seemed to Han that this was a too ignominious an exit.

"It doesn't matter," Leia assured him, "as long as it gets where it's going." Without another word, she placed the sphere in the ejector tube and pushed the switch. The ejector made a grinding noise and the capsule shot out into space.

"Do you want to see where it ends up?" Han asked her.

Leia shook her head. "No, let's go back to the base. We have a war to win."


	2. Chapter 2

_Many thanks to everyone who read, reviewed and/or followed this story. And, once again, many thanks to jublke for her beta reading-you make me look good!_

**The Graveyard**

_Four Years ABY_

Two men and a Wookiee stood huddled together in a large clearing of the forest moon of Endor. They were watching what could have been a bad holovid drama—except that it wasn't.

"I thought they were together," Lando said in some confusion, eying the couple standing some distance away at the foot of the ship's boarding ramp. The man and woman appeared to be in the middle of a heated argument; the man waved an imperious finger under the woman's nose; she lifted her chin and folded her arms determinedly across her chest. Their voices were loud enough that it was almost possible to make out their conversation, even at 15 meters distance.

"They are. Well, Han says they are. We talked about it last night."

Chewbacca whuffed out a chortle and smacked Luke on the back hard enough to cause him to stumble forward a few steps. The look Luke shot back over his shoulder at the unrepentant Wookiee was eerily reminiscent of the kind Han used when he was particularly exasperated with his large friend. So maybe Chewie was right and it had been a little early for the _What are your intentions toward my sister_ speech, but premature or not, Luke had been more than satisfied with Han's heartfelt answer. Yes, Luke was sure Han and Leia were together, but they did have the oddest ways of showing it.

"I know Han can be a little clueless when it comes to women," Lando observed, "but he should know, right? And Leia," he continued, "the six months Han was gone—well, I was worried about her." The solemn lines of his face smoothed into an amused smile. "Now she's as ornery as a sand panther with a hairball." He shrugged. "I guess I'm just a little surprised."

Luke nodded in agreement; they'd all been worried about the princess. For those six months, she wouldn't sleep until she was ready to drop in her tracks, and she'd barely eaten anything. But none of them had expected a screaming match eight short days after Han was back.

Well, almost none of them had. Chewbacca explained to his companions that this is what Han and Leia did; apparently screaming at each other was a sign of devotion and that he would only worry if suddenly they were very polite to each other. Chewie waved one wooly arm in their direction for emphasis, then concluded his speech with another Wookiee chuckle.

"Okay," Lando conceded, "but it sure is the weirdest thing I've ever seen."

"C'mon, Chewie!" Han's voice carried through Endor's clean forest air. "It looks like we're going." Han waved an arm at Leia's erect form as she marched up the ramp and into the _Millennium Falcon_. "There is no reasoning with her Worshipfulness!"

Chewbacca shrugged amiably and shuffled off after the angry couple.

**The pinpoint lights of the stars stretched into white streaks as the **_**Millennium**__**Falcon**_** jumped into hyperspace. **Han made one last check of the ship's course on the navicomputer before leaning back in his seat to regard Leia's stubborn face.

"I just don't see why we have to do this right now," Han began, obviously picking up where their argument had left off before they'd lifted off Endor. "It's only been what, two days? Chewie and I've barely had time to get the old girl spaceworthy again. The Alliance owes me a new sensor dish, don't forget," he continued. "I know I'm not going to get it from Lando." Han's mouth set in an irritated grimace. "I don't know why I let him get his grubby hands on her to begin with."

Leia nodded patiently while mentally tuning out Han's speech. They both knew the _Millennium Falcon_ would get its new sensor dish as soon as it was possible to find the part; Han just needed something to grumble about.

He turned back to the viewport with a thoughtful look on his face and watched the mottled light patterns of hyperspace. Taking the cue from his friend's altered mood, Chewbacca unfolded himself from the co-pilot's seat and headed into the access tube leading to the back of the ship. Since they were missing the sensor dish, he explained, he would work on increasing the range of the remaining sensors. Leia slipped into Chewie's seat as the cockpit door slid shut behind the Wookiee.

"You could have at least waited until your arm was healed," Han said. He looked pointedly at her left arm, which was still bandaged after the battle of the bunker on Endor's moon.

"Like I keep telling everyone, it's not that bad," Leia explained, her voice tinged with irritation. She wastired of everyone making such a big deal about her arm; after all, good people had lost their lives during that battle, and all she had was a scratch.

However, when she saw the look on Han's face—so tender and concerned—she modulated her tone. After six months of not knowing whether Han was dead or alive, she couldn't help but sympathize with anyone worried about the one they loved. And since Han was the one doing the worrying…

"Really, it's just a graze," she reassured him, resting her hand on his wrist. "A little bacta salve and it's practically gone." She squeezed his arm lovingly. "Really."

After the slightest hesitation, Han took her hand. "I still think you should be resting," he said.

Leia's eyes twinkled wickedly. "You didn't think that last night," she reminded him.

"We rested last night." The crooked smile lit his features. "Eventually," he amended.

Leia grinned back. A companionable silence filled the cockpit.

"You're doing this because of him, aren't you?" Han asked into the silence.

Leia breathed out an exasperated little sigh. She hated the fact that Han always seemed to know what was going on inside her head.

"Yes, I'm doing this because of him," she replied tersely.

"You don't have to, you know. You're not him. You could never be him."

Now it was Leia's turned to stare out the canopy, watching the mosaic of lightspeed flow around the ship. "I have his blood in my veins." She shuddered. "It was better when I didn't know that. Before he was just a monster, now he's the monster who's my father."

When Leia had finally worked up the courage to tell Han just who her father—her biological sire, rather—really was, he had already worked it out for himself. It hadn't been hard. If Luke was her brother, and Darth Vader—or Anakin Skywalker, as Luke preferred—was his father, well, then, he must be Leia's father too. It wasn't that difficult a leap to make.

As his first reaction, Han had felt only cold fury. How could someone do the things Darth Vader had done—and to his own children? He'd maimed his son, callously slicing off his hand. Worse, even worse—he'd tortured Leia in the very worst way imaginable. Making her watch as her whole world was destroyed…

But it was after Leia had made her tearful, unnecessary confession to Han, telling him what she considered to be the awful truth—that was when he realized he couldn't let that heartless black monstrosity win the last hand. Leia had actually expected Han to walk away from her, to leave and never come back, because of who her parent was. As if Han would actually care about any being's past. And Leia. Leia was the strongest, most beautiful person he had ever met, and there was nothing, _nothing_, that would ever make him think otherwise. He would happily cut off his own hand before he would hurt her. So he told her exactly that, holding her as tightly as he could, giving her all the love he could, and wishing he could squeeze the pain right out of her.

But, of course, that wasn't possible. So now they were on their way to the Graveyard of Alderaan. Han couldn't see how that would help her, but if Leia wanted to go, they would go.

**"Okay, Chewie, cut in the sublights," Han instructed. **The star streams contracted to points as the _Falcon_ slipped back into real space. As usual on these trips, Han tried to see everywhere at once as they approached the broken remains of the planet Alderaan. After four years, the debris field was becoming more stable, providing a slightly lower risk of being pummeled to death by an errant chunk of rock. But that didn't negate the other dangers that might still be lurking in the rubble, and Han wasn't about to risk danger to either Leia or his ship.

"It looks kind of crowded out here today," he observed, catching sight of one or two other ships coasting along the edge of the asteroids. Han eyed the other ships warily for a few minutes before determining they weren't a threat. He moved his hand casually away from the controls of the belly gun, and turned to face Leia, who was standing in the space just behind Chewie and himself. "Looks like some other folks decided it was a good day to celebrate," he said.

"No one's here to celebrate," Leia responded harshly.

"Hey, no offense intended, your Worship!" Han raised a hand as if to protect himself. "You know what I mean."

"Yeah, I do know, Flyboy. No offense taken. I guess I'm still a little sensitive about coming here."

She leaned over and kissed him lightly on the cheek, squeezing his shoulder gently. She could feel him stiffen a little under her touch. For all of his bravado, Han still seemed shy about these public displays of affection, even in front of as good a friend as Chewie. Leia smiled a little—he really was a big softie!

"Any particular coordinates this time?" Han asked. He craned his neck to look around through all the cockpit viewports, then checked the sensor readings on the control board. "It looks like we don't have any Imperial company this time. At least as far as I can tell without a sensor dish," he griped. Then his trademark smirk disappeared and his face grew serious. "You know that we're not free and clear, just because Palpatine's dead. Some people haven't heard, and some people won't care what they've heard." Han echoed Leia from so long ago. "It's not over yet."

"I know," she said solemnly. "Thank you for taking such good care of me."

"Always."

**"Okay, anywhere that's safe to stop along here is fine," Leia offered. **Stop wasn't really the right word, but synchronized drifting was just too much to say. After two years of practice, Han had the combination of thrust and repulsors down to an art. He chose a hunk of rock just larger than the ship and effectively parked the _Falcon_ in the debris field. He turned his head just in time to see Leia slip out the cockpit door.

"Chewie, keep the ship here." Han rose and headed toward the back of the ship after the princess. "I'm going to go give her Worship a hand with whatever it is she's got."

Han paused in the open hatchway as the Wookiee yowled at him.

"What?" Han turned to look at his friend. "I am being nice to her. Why would you say I'm not being nice?"

Chewbacca's barked reply didn't sit well with Han.

"What do you mean I'm clueless when it comes to females. I've known lots of women; I've made most of them pretty happy, too!" Han expostulated.

The Wookiee explained exactly what he meant, emphasized by arm waving and the occasional snarl.

Han waved his hand in front of his face. "Okay, calm down. You're getting fur all over the instruments."

Chewie just stared.

"Yeah, I know she's not like the other females I've known." An amazed smile traveled across his face. "Believe me, I know. And, yeah, I know she's had an awful lot thrown at her all at once." Han's face grew thoughtful, his eyes earnest. "I'll be gentle. I am never, ever, going to do anything to hurt her. Ever."

A whuffling laugh accompanied Chewie's reply.

"Very funny, Fuzzball. I'll get it right in less than 50 years. Trust me."

**Han found Leia standing in the rear cargo hold, something in each hand.** "You okay?" he asked her. "You took off pretty quick."

"I just needed time to think."

Han only nodded.

"I don't know which of these I should use," she said.

"What've you got there?" Han looked down at the items Leia held. In one hand she held a small but very sharp stone knife. What looked like a piece of animal hide was clutched in her other hand. It was decorated with polished stones.

"Hey! You get that from one of the little guys?"

"Paploo gave them to me."

"How come?" Han propped a hip on the edge of a storage barrel. He was doing his best to look nonchalant, but the sad look in Leia's eyes worried him.

"I told him why I was coming here," she explained. "He said that if I was coming to honor warriors, that I should bring these. They belonged to his friend Rawrkwil. He was one of the Ewoks killed during the fight. Threepio translated for us," she added.

Well, that explained the sad look in her eyes, at least part of it.

"Leia…"

"We brought the fight to them. They died because of us."

"The Empire brought the fight to them. They just picked which side they wanted to be on."

"They were fine until we showed up." Her words were bitter.

"Do you really think the Empire would have left them alone? The first thing they would have done when they finished that Death Star was blow up the moon."

The angry lines of Han's face actually seemed to help Leia. "You're right," she conceded. "It's just—."

Han didn't think gentle was going to work this time; he took Leia by the shoulders. "You're not him. Any more than Luke is." He reached one hand down and lifted her chin up so that she was looking him in the eye. "You are not him and you never will be. Understand?"

She didn't say anything for a long minute. Then she nodded.

"Okay then." Han looked at her face, which had become so precious to him. Her eyes were big and dark and just a little watery. Well, a little gentle couldn't hurt. He kissed her, tenderly, and was only a little bit startled by the answering passion.

"I'll use both," Leia said, when she could breathe evenly again.

"Good idea." Han rummaged through a storage locker, smiling when he found another capsule.

They launched the capsules together.


	3. Chapter 3

_Look, I did it, right on schedule! Thanks again to the people who have read, reviewed, followed, and faved this story. And once again, many thanks to jublke for her keen editing._

**The Graveyard**

_Ten Years ABY_

"Hey, Leia. You know you don't have to do this now, right?" Han said. "They can't make you. I know it's a special year, but maybe next year might be better for the big party. I mean, on account of, uh, well, just in case…" his voice trailed off when he saw the storm gathering in his wife's eyes.

Leia, in turn, saw that Han's eyes were now focused on her midsection, where her white ceremonial gown currently fit her a little too snugly. "I know I don't have to do this now!" she snapped, "but I'm going to. Besides, next year I'll have two screaming infants to deal with." The anniversary of Alderaan's destruction always brought a whole banquet of emotions to the table; but this year—the tenth year—seemed ten times worse. It's just the hormones, Leia reminded herself. "I wish everyone would stop treating me like I'm some fragile piece of glass," she snarled. "I'm pregnant, not dying!" And, then, to her horror, Leia burst into tears.

Confusion, backed by a quick dose of terror, streaked across Han's face as he watched his weeping wife. But Han Solo never ran from anything, and that included a pregnant, out-of-control Leia. "I just don't want you getting sick all over the cockpit, your Worship," he said with a smirk, mentally crossing his fingers. At this point in her pregnancy, anything he said to Leia carried a certain risk of emotional explosion.

It had been the right choice this time, Han thought. Thank the gods. Leia smiled through her tears. To her complete and total degradation, she had gotten sick once, very early in her pregnancy, all over the sea by the navicomputer. That event, in turn, had sent both Han and Chewbacca into panic mode—which was actually kind of cute, she thought. "You don't need to worry about that anymore, Flyboy," she assured him. She brushed a hand against his cheek, a gesture of apology for her earlier outburst.

Han took her hand in his and kissed her palm. "Besides," he reminded her, "they'll be my screaming infants, too, when we come next year." He smiled at her—not his normal cocky grin, but a half-smile—shy and just a little scared. That was kind of cute, too.

"Yes, they will," Leia agreed, "and believe me, I'll be happy to share the duties with you—especially diaper duty." She smiled sweetly at him.

Chewie barked out a laugh from the top of the _Millennium Falcon's _boarding ramp. Leia didn't know if Wookiees used diapers or not, but she was pretty sure Chewbacca wouldn't shirk his duty in that respect. She was confident Han wouldn't either; he was going to be a great dad. She could only hope she'd be as good a mother.

"Well, we'd better get going," Leia sighed. "They're expecting me." Over Han's shoulder, Leia scanned Coruscant's VIP docking bay. It was guaranteed secure from almost any possible threat. Unfortunately the holomedia weren't considered dangerous, only irritating. She could see several reporters lurking in the shadows.

Leia reached up to take the arm Han extended for her as they walked up the ramp. Behind them, she could hear the whir of holocameras recording their every move. This year, of all years, was the one where she knew that her pilgrimage to the Graveyard would be a media circus. And this year, of all the years, was the one where she didn't want it to be.

Timing, it was all a matter of timing. Of course, there were already rumors circulating throughout the core worlds about the possibility that Princess Leia Organa-Solo was pregnant, but she and Han had only shared the good news with family and a few close friends. And Mon Mothma, who Han certainly didn't consider a friend, but the Chief Councilor had to know. Leia had hoped to keep it their secret for a little while longer, something special between Han and herself. She certainly didn't want her growing bump to be the focus of every holo-shill in the known galaxy. But it seemed like that luxury was doomed to end today. And next year, with the twins, it would even be worse. Leia sighed.

"You okay?" Han asked. He turned his eyes from the preflight check.

"I'm fine. I'm just thinking about the speech."

"You've made plenty of speeches before," he pointed out, hands gliding automatically over the _Falcon's _main control board.

"I know, but this is, I don't know, bigger, somehow." Leia gazed out through the cockpit window.

"Just say what you feel; that's all anybody needs to hear." Han turned to face forward. "Let's fire' em up, Chewie. Strap yourself in, sweetheart," he called behind him.

Leia dropped into the seat behind her husband and dutifully fastened the restraining belt.

"And I have a stash of bags underneath the seat." Han's grin reflected in the transparisteel of the forward viewport. "Just in case."

"Stow it, nerfherder!"

"**Well, at least this year we won't have to worry about TIE fighters behind every chunk of rock," **Leia commented. She turned to the nav station. "We should be there in another half-hour."

"No, we just have to worry about hitting a news-float…or a diplomatic shuttle." Han smiled sourly. "Did she have to invite a representative of _every _member planet?"

Leia had no doubt who the s_he _was. "Han, would you just get over it already!" It wasn't a request so much as an order. "You don't have to like Mon Mothma, but you'd better learn to tolerate her." Leia's look dared him to defy her. "I have to work with her every day. And I do like her, most of the time."

"Fine!" Han grumbled. "But if you expect me to forget she was ready to sell you to the highest bidder like some Twi'lek slave dancer…" Leia rolled her eyes; she'd heard this particular complaint so many times she didn't even bother answering her husband any more.

Chewbacca, apparently, wasn't in the mood for it either. His angry bellow stopped Han cold.

"What?" Han asked his friend. "You don't think I have a valid complaint?"

Chewie snarled a question.

"Well, yeah, she's my life-mate," Han answered tentatively.

Another snarl followed. Chewbacca waved his arm at the princess.

"And, yeah," Han continued, "of course they're my cubs!" Now he looked a little indignant.

The Wookiee barked out a suggestion.

"Okay, so I'll get over it!" Han turned back to the control board. "Can't you guys give me a break?"

"No!" Leia and Chewie answered in unison.

"**Wow! Look at 'em all!"** Han waved his hand in the direction of a veritable fleet of media vehicles circling the viewing station that had been constructed for the tenth anniversary commemoration. Beyond the station, diplomatic shuttles hovered in the debris field. Relegated to the space available behind the shuttles, private transports hung in space. Most of these belonged to survivors of Alderaan.

Chewie barked and waved his long arm at the mass of ships.

"I know, it doesn't seem right to me, either, Chewie." Han turned to look at his wife. "How come the Alderaanians are in the back of everybody else?" he asked.

"They shouldn't be." Leia's face had taken on the stubborn look Han was only too familiar with. "Let me get on the comm," she said. Han watched with admiration as Leia made her wishes known. She never raised her voice, and she never made a demand, but somehow twenty minutes later the diplomats and the survivors had changed positions.

"Nice going, your Worship." Han heaved a sigh as a holocamera droid cruised past the _Falcon's_ cockpit. Chewie moaned out a request.

"Sorry, Chewie," Han answered, "the princess says we can't blow them out of the sky."

The Wookiee just snarled.

Han rose from his seat and straightened his jacket. Since he'd resigned his commission, it was as formal as he was willing to get. Leia appreciated the sacrifice.

"Are you ready?" he asked his wife, offering her his hand.

Leia took his hand and pulled herself out of her seat. She smoothed down her gown, her hand hovering briefly on her belly; Han rested his hand next to hers. Leia smiled up at him and nodded.

"Dock us, Chewie," Han said. "It's showtime."

**The commemoration ceremony proceeded with as much dignity as the spectacle allowed. **The new station had a large, transparisteel viewing port. Leia stood at a podium designed to camouflage her expanding belly—Han had to give Mon Mothma points for that. Arrayed behind her were Luke, looking solemn and dignified in his Jedi robes, Mon Mothma in her traditional white, and Han—looking every bit as self-conscious as he had at the ceremony after the battle of Yavin.

The Princess's speech was directed to the survivors of Alderaan; they were her people. She spoke of remembrance and forgiveness, of losses and victories, and of people moving forward. Her voice and image were broadcast over the holonet, every second preserved for posterity. Han noted that several dignitaries were moved to tears; he didn't think he'd ever heard Leia give a more stirring, heartfelt speech. He wondered, as he had for perhaps a million times in the past ten years, how he had ever been as lucky as he was the day he said he'd help rescue a princess.

The New Republic had made a gift of the Alderaan Memorial and Viewing Station. The station would be a permanent fixture now that the debris field had become stable. As a part of this, there were several different size portals which could be used by those who wanted to add a memorial to the debris. The Survivors of Alderaan Fund would provide a supply of capsules which could be used to encase whatever small memorial an individual wished to launch. Princess Organa-Solo would be the first to use the new system.

Han watched curiously as Leia selected one of the smaller capsules. She had been oddly silent about her choice of memorial this year. Han assumed from its size that it must be one of her last mementos from her life before the Death Star.

"So, what've you got there?" he asked, moving forward into the circle of holocameras and holovid recorders.

Leia held a smallish holocube in her hand. The images Han could see seemed slightly blurry.

"Oh, it's just some images I wanted to add to the memorial." Leia's face was solemn, but Han swore he saw a mischievous glint.

"Of what? Family pictures?" Han reached out his hand, but Leia shifted deftly away.

"You could say that."

As Leia worked to open the capsule, Han's hand snaked out. He didn't get the cube, but he did manage to snag the flimisplast label from the bottom. His eyes widened in disbelief as he made out the words: _Mother: Leia Organa-Solo; Father: Han Solo; Image taken-. _

"Are you crazy?!" Han grabbed her arm. Cameras and recorders whirred and clicked around them.

"No, I know exactly what I'm doing." Leia's eyes shot sparks as she tilted her head up to look at her husband's face.

"Why would you launch _this_ into—" Han waved at the cube; words appeared to have failed him. His wife had obviously taken leave of her senses. _This_ was the first image of their twins, recorded shortly after Leia knew she was pregnant. It was a little fuzzy, as these first images usually were, but it was the first confirmation that they were indeed having twins, and that they were a boy and a girl.

"It's just a copy," Leia said reasonably. "I kept the original."

"But why?" Han's other hand reached out to grasp her other arm. He was no longer shocked, but obviously still confused.

"Captain Solo," Mon Mothma's voice sounded near his ear. "May I remind you that the whole galaxy is watching this."

"Leia," Luke tapped his sister on the shoulder, "maybe you could explain this to Han and then actually launch it." His lips twitched up into a smile. "It's getting kind of awkward."

Neither Han nor Leia looked at anyone other than each other. "It makes perfect sense, Han," Leia said. "Don't you see? It shows that Tarkin and Vader and the Emperor, they didn't win—we did!" Leia's voice grew louder and more strident as she continued. "I'm still here; you're still here; Luke is still here—they're not! We won! We're moving forward, and this proves it." She held the holocube up to him, oblivious to the recording equipment surrounding them. "They're going to have a free galaxy to live in."

Leia watched the emotions play across her husband's face. Shock faded to uncertainty, then understanding, finishing with the most beautiful smile Leia had ever seen.

Han tilted his head down toward hers, but Leia, aware again of their surroundings, merely smiled and put her finger to his lips.

"I know," she said, so softly only Han could hear her. She didn't stop his embrace however; she figured the galaxy should see that. Besides, it felt wonderful—it always did.

Together, Han and Leia put the holocube in the capsule Leia had selected. Together they put it into the portal and launched it into the debris that had once been Alderaan. They watched it until it was just one more speck among millions of others. Then Han did reach down and kiss Leia, very gently. The cameras whirred with manic intensity.

"I think Winter's going to need to issue an official release," Luke said quietly to the Chief Councilor.

Mon Mothma nodded gravely in reply. "The first of many, I'm sure."


End file.
